


Zones

by headless-killjoys (neepynoodles)



Series: Zone Five Quarantine Fair [6]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Comfort, Ghoul uses he/they, Jet & Party are mentioned briefly, Kobra uses he/him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24088807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neepynoodles/pseuds/headless-killjoys
Summary: There are nights when all Fun Ghoul wants to do is get up and explore, go past the safe zones and into the unknown.But on nights like this, they find there is nothing more they need than this moment.---Day 6! A longer "director's cut" version of this is also up!
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Kobra Kid (Danger Days)
Series: Zone Five Quarantine Fair [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729321
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Zones

Fun Ghoul leans back against the rock and casts their gaze to the horizon of the outer zones, far beyond safe radiation levels. On nights like this, there is little that can calm them down. On nights like this, they take the trans am and just  _ drive _ because explosions aren’t enough. Echoes of the city linger in everything around them until they turn their back to it, literally. It still looms behind them, as if hovering over their shoulder like a ghost that won’t leave. But out at the edges of the zones, the high pitched sirens and the static fades and there’s nothing they can focus on except for the faint buzz of life and the distant roar of the drag races. 

There’s a hum to the ground around them, something they can’t explain, but they know they can feel. They’re tempted to go beyond Zone 6, they’re always tempted. To take the step out and never turn back. No one knows what lies out there. Kobra swears he’s seen a forest out there before. Jet swears he’s seen Better Living out there, not the one from their Battery City, but from one deep in the radiation. Poison won’t say what they’ve seen, but it’s clear that when they look out into the far zones, they can only see what has become of the ones who made it back - the sunken eyes and haunted looks, the sound of coughing and faint glow of their skin. 

Fun Ghoul though, they see a vast wasteland of potential. There is so much to discover out there, new materials for explosives, new echoes of the past and relics to loot. What else survived the wars? They sit up a little straighter at the sound of a motorbike pulling up behind them. They keep their eyes on the desert, as if the zones are calling out to them from afar. 

What if there  _ is _ a forest out there like Kobra says; vibrant life for Ghoul to discover. The radiation is thick, but they’re already so heavily radiated that geiger counters break when pointed at them, so what’s the big deal about a little more radiation? On nights like this, they want to stand up and keep walking. But there is too much in the zones keeping them here. The markets and their noise and colour, busy and bustling, where everyone is packed in like sardines. The fairs and the celebrations; you take the little victories where you can out in the desert. The fuel of the drag races, the smoke trails as the racers ride like comets towards the finish line. The intoxicating smell of spray paint that lingers as evidence a burner was nearby recently, the discarded cans lying around the desert as their bright colours are poured out. 

And, of course, their friends. They have no intention of leaving any of them behind. 

Kobra Kid walks up beside them and sits down silently, his helmet in his hands. There’s a comfortable silence that falls between them as Ghoul smiles, leaning their head to rest on Kobra’s shoulder. The sky above them is a spectacular purple, decorated with shining stars unhidden by clouds. It’s more peaceful than Ghoul ever thought they would enjoy. Kobra crosses his legs, placing his helmet in his lap as one of his hands reaches for Ghoul’s. He intertwines their fingers together and lightly rests his head against the top of theirs. 

On nights like this, where the winds are still and the zones call out to them, this is all Fun Ghoul needs. Not the ringing sound of a detonation in their ears, not the plume of smoke or the blazing glow of a fire, not the satisfying click as he puts his bombs together, not the terrifying lure of the unexplored zones, not the feeling of his hair being whipped back away from his face as he drives the trans am recklessly down Route Guano with the windows down. 

Just this. Just the quiet of the zones, punctuated by the occasional distant howl. Just the feeling of a warm hand around his. Just the sound of his boyfriend humming as they both stare up at the endless night. Just this one moment, when there’s only the zones and them, when the rest of the world melts away. 

They sit together like that until the first rays of daylight start to shine through the violet sky. 


End file.
